Drive all day, sing before supper, and write about fun at the ballpark before going to bed. That's a snapshot of Joe's typical baseball day during the 2011 season. Track the progress of his trek through 40 states and more than 100 ballparks.

Friday, July 26, 2013

Kinsellas and Kernels: Game 83 in Cedar Rapids

Driving past Iowa cornfields on our way from one ballpark to
another, I recalled scenes from W. P. Kinsella’s magical baseball settings in The Iowa Baseball Confederacy and Shoeless Joe, which served as the basis
for the cinematic hit Field of Dreams.First among the images that came to mind was
the cornfield diamond built by protagonist farmer Ray Kinsella.Perceived by some as heaven on earth, the
field of dreams lured a crowd of baseball characters to fulfill their
destinies: Shoeless Joe Jackson and his fellow banished teammates from the
Black Sox scandal; deceased doctor and former baseball hopeful Archie
“Moonlight” Graham; reclusive software designer, alienated fan, and former
author Terrence Mann (the film’s remodeled persona to replace the novel’s
character novelist J.D. Salinger); Ray Kinsella’s late father John, an ex-minor
leaguer and worn out factory worker; and Ray himself, the unfulfilled farmer
who, as an emerging teenager, had refused to play catch with his dad.

Depending on who's playing, Perfect Game Field might be a Field of Dreams.

While I knew that neither the riverfront field in Clinton
nor the urban diamond in Davenport nor the residential ballpark in Cedar
Rapids could resemble the dream field on the movie set near Dyersville, I kept
gazing beyond the passing crops, hoping to catch a glimpse of an ephemeral
field that could transform long passed promise into the karmic consummation that Kinsella’s
field of dreams had facilitated for so many of his characters. Yet instead of being wooed by such wonder on the
route between Davenport and Cedar Rapids, I was brought back to earth by the
sight of the world’s largest truck stop along I-80, a place with spaces for 800
big rigs.

However, when I arrived at Veteran’s Stadium in Cedar
Rapids, I did find a tribute to some of Iowa’s historic players that resonated
with Kinsella’s fictional world.The Cedar
Rapids Hall of Fame, which is located in the ballpark’s souvenir store, recognizes
more than fifty players—including Cooperstown luminaries John McGraw and Lou
Boudreau—who starred with the Kernels and their predecessors dating back to the
city’s first pro-team, the Canaries in the Illinois-Iowa League of the late 19th
century.

Expanding on this celebration
of notables in the city’s Hall of Fame, a timeline display of posters, sample
jerseys, and memorabilia line the walls of the suite level of the
ballpark.Additional Cedar Rapids’ standouts
like Trevor Hoffman, Bengie Molina, Paul O’Neil, and John Lackey are recognized
with stars embedded in the walkway of the concession concourse; and by-gone
greats Rocky Colavito, Allie Reynolds, and others are featured on directional
placards to seat sections.

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Even with all
of the outstanding players who had played for the Kernels in their half-century
history, only one former player was honored with his number retired on the outfield
wall: Nick Adenhart, who posted 10 wins for the Kernels during a partial season
and who was killed by a drunk driver around midnight following his first start
for the parent Angels in 2009 after making their Opening Day roster.

Nick Adenhart is honored by his number and image on the centerfield wall.

Joining Bonnie and me for a not-quite-historic evening at Perfect
Game Field in Veterans Stadium were former Whittier colleague Gerry Adams and his
wife Sara.Two decades earlier they had
immigrated to Iowa and had become immersed in its corn culture.Having taught chemistry before moving to
Grinnell to become the registrar of the college there, Gerry regaled me throughout
the game about the advantages and challenges of the genetically engineered corn
that had increased the productivity of the Iowa crops, which now were primarily
destined for cattle consumption or use as bio-fuels.

﻿﻿

Gerry and Sara Adams with Bonnie

Meeting me to provide pre-game orientation was Kernels’ staffer
James Odegard.A first tenor who was
studying biology at Luther College, James had subbed three or four times during
the season for scheduled anthem performers who cancelled. Since the Kernels,
like most of the other teams, did not schedule a sound check for me, I asked
James about what kind of delay and feedback I might encounter.“Don’t listen to the sound system,” he suggested.“When I heard myself I slowed down and then
thought I should speed up.”

“What key did you sing it in?”I asked.

“B-flat,” he said, adding that the low notes had seemed a
bit low.When I countered that I sing it
in F-sharp, he smiled and said that would be far too low for him to join me in
a duet.

A short time later when I was introduced, I was pleased to hear the Cedar Rapids announcer read the brief introduction
that I had sent to teams when I confirmed arrival information.

If possible, I'd appreciate your
PA announcer identifying my affiliation with Whittier College during the
introduction.

... national anthem by
Whittier College Professor Joe Price.

And if a few more
words could be added to stimulate conversations with the fans, I suggest:

During the 2011 baseball season,
Joe Price is singing the national anthem at more than 100 minor
league ballparks in 40 states while he examines how baseball and "The
Star-Spangled Banner" combine to shape the national pastime.

At the recent
games in Kane County, Davenport, and Beloit where I had been introduced
simply by name, few fans had interacted with me about the tour.But in Cedar Rapids, the twenty-second
introduction prompted numerous comments and fruitful discussions with fans
during several innings.

Among those responding so positively to the brief description of my tour was Teresa Dvorak, who
stopped me on the concourse to introduce me to her mother.A week earlier Teresa had attended the game at Kane
County where my introduction had been minimal. When she heard the announcement during the Kernels’ pre-game ceremonies, she had thought that my name sounded familiar, and when she heard my voice she
knew that I had been the one singing for the earlier game between the
Cougars and the Kernels, a team that she has followed since she was a young
child. Her fascination with the team was tied, in part, to her mother’s ongoing
support of its players.More than twenty
years ago, her mother had begun to provide room and board for the early hopefuls
since her five-bedroom house is within a homerun’s cheer of the field. Without
divulging the identities of players who might have needed such accommodations, her
mother added, “When they have had a bit too much to drink, they can safely walk to
their rooms at my home.”

While we were talking Kyle Swaney approached and identified
himself as a Whittier alumnus from a few years before my arrival at the College.
Favorably recalling his major professor David Volckmann (still my colleague and
fellow bass in a community choir), Kyle discussed his current work with ACT,
the college admissions and placement test organization whose home office was
nearby in Iowa City. As part of his work
with the organization, he has co-authored
research reports related to career groups and career counseling, studies that drew from and affirmed his undergraduate, liberal arts education.

Our conversation was disrupted by a foul ball that took aim
toward us, caroming off the façade above us back toward the front row
seats.Retrieving the ball on the
rebound, a man turned and handed it to a boy whose face exploded with delight. The response personified the inscription on
the statue of Pete Vonachen that I had seen in Peoria the previous night: “There
is nothing more rewarding than the look of joy when you give a kid a baseball.”

Peoria's statue of Pete Vonachen.

Rob Thompson, the ball retriever, had returned to Cedar Rapids to attend his
high school reunion the following night.He had arranged his itinerary to include a Kernels’ game, a schedule
that he hadtried to follow each time
that he had returned to the city to visit family. Self-described as an inveterate baseball fan,
he said that giving the ball to the boy was “really no big deal” since he already had Major League balls from Rangers’ games near his Texas home,
signed souvenir balls, and a Minor League ball that had been given to him by
the mascot at a game in Hickory, North Carolina.I wondered if “Mr. Shuck,” the Kernels’
mascot, would similarly favor him.But
a different chance presented itself to him a few innings after our conversation:
He was selected to be the person
interviewed for the trivia contest. Rather than needing the prompt or hint from
the staffer, he knew already that the answer to the question was option B, Eric
Davis, a star for the Kernels in the early 80s.

Near his
seat, season ticket holders Greg and Maria Camburn summoned me to sit by them
for a half inning.“We’re envious,” they
said. “We’d love to explore America through Minor League ballparks.”And their questions might be answered by the
complete account of my tour: When did you start planning?Where did you begin?How many miles have you traveled?Where have you stayed?What ballparks have been your favorites?Why?What surprises have you found?Which places were the most exciting?What unusual baseball plays and players have you seen?

In the section behind the Camburns, Jim Hutton sat in a
wheelchair, confined to that means of mobility after having suffered multiple
injuries in a biking accident years earlier. A former lead tenor in a barbershop quartet,
Jim was most complementary about my anthem rendition, especially since, as he
put it, “you didn’t add any stuff or do something personal.”Following his accident the damage to his jaw had
required that it be wired shut, a treatment that necessitated a tracheotomy,
which then caused damage to his larynx and regrettably ended his singing with the
group.Now, he said, he enjoys evenings
at the Kernels’ games, often harmonizing with the anthem singer.

While I enjoyed stimulating conversations with old friends and
new acquaintances, the Kernels reached new levels of support from corporate
sponsors for local charities by performing effectively on the field. The ten strikeouts of River Bandits batters by
a quartet of Kernels hurlers earned $250 for Kids First, the first American law center
with a mission to mitigate the negative effects of divorce on children.Additional support for better-known charities
was generated by the Kernels’ six runs (for Meals on Wheels), Travis
Witherspoon’s two stolen bases (for Camp Courageous), and Randal Grichuk’s
homerun (for Veterans Group).

A different scoreboard tallies the Kernels' efforts for charities.

Throughout the game the whole cob of Kernels enjoyed clutch hitting,
going 5 for 11 with runners in scoring position.And the game itself finished with a
flourish.After the Kernels cut the River
Bandits’ lead to a single run on a solo shot with two outs in the bottom of the
8th, the 9th inning was filled with bases-loaded
drama.With two outs Quad Cities mounted
a final threat, filling the bases with an error and two walks before Geoffrey
Klein, who had homered earlier in the game, fanned to end the inning.In the bottom half of the frame, the Kernels
scored the tying run on a pinch-hit triple before loading the bases with only
one out.But an unassisted double play on
a line drive to the River Bandits’ third baseman sent the game into
extra-innings. Then in the 10th
Cedar Rapids rallied to win 6-5 after a hit batter was followed by a couple of
singles.

1 comment:

How do you REMEMBER or more accurately, record all this information? It's so rich in description, personalities and history. Can you could write fiction as well as you can record history? I'm not saying this just because I'm your brother-in-law.